{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/arthur/art084.htm","path":"neu/arthur/art084.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/arthur/art084.htm","text":"Sacred Texts\u00a0\n Legends/Sagas\u00a0\n England\u00a0\n Index\u00a0\n Previous\u00a0\n Next\u00a0\n \n \n An Arthurian Miscellany\n TRISTRAM OF THE WOOD \n by\n PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE\n \n \n Once, when the autumn fields were dim and wet,\n The trumpets rang; the tide of battle set\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Toward gray Broceliande, by the western sea.\n \n In the fore-front of conflict grimly stood,\n Clothed in dark armor, Tristam of the Wood,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And round him ranged his knights of Brittany.\n \n Of lordlier frame than even the lordliest there, \n Firm as a tower, upon his vast destrere ,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He looked as one whose soul was steeped in trance.\n \n Ne'er spake nor stirred he, though the trumpet's sound\n Echoed abroad, and all the glittering ground\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shook to the steel-clad warriors' swift advance;\n \n Ne'er spake nor stirred he, for the mystic hour\n Closed o'er him then; the glamour of its power\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Dream-wrought, and sadly beautiful with love--\n \n Love of the lost Iseult. In marvellous stead\n Of thronging faces, with looks stern and dread,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Through the dense dust, the hostile plumes above,\n \n He saw his fair, lost Iseult's passionate eyes,\n And o'er the crash of lances heard her cries,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shrill with despair, when last they twain did part.\n \n While others thrilled to strife, he, thrilled with woe,\n Felt his life-currents shuddering cold and low\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Round the worn bastions of his broken heart.\n \n Then rolled his way the battle's furious flood;\n Squadrons charged on him blindly; blows and blood\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Showered down like hail and water; vainly drew\n \n The whole war round him; still his broadsword's gleam\n Flashed in death's front, and still, as wrapped in dream,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0He fought and slew, witting not whom he slew,\n \n Nor knew whose arm had smitten him deep and sore--\n So deep that Tristam never, never more\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Shone in the van of conflict; but the smart\n \n Of his fierce wound tortured him night and day,\n Till, through God's grace, his life-blood ebbed away,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And death's sweet quiet healed his broken heart.\n \n \n \n Next: Guinevere, by Graham Hill [1906]","title":"Arthurian Miscellany: Tristram of the Wood, by Paul Hamilton Hayne [1882]","type":"page"}